Desert's Legacy
by PlaguedByEarth
Summary: A man is born to the Gerudo every hundred years, and after Ganondorf, a century later, how will the world accept the new king? The Hylians will go to any length to stop a new Ganon from rising to power. This is the story of Kanorath's trial. OC story
1. Ambush

Here it is, my first fanfiction, focusing on the Gerudo king after Ganondorf. His name is Kanorath, for no particular reason. The Gerudo were a really interesting people, and the idea of the next king always iterested me ever since I first played the game.

Disclaimer for awkwardness*

Yes, it's awkward in some places because I haven't set the point of view on Kanorath yet, I realize this and this is the biggest thing I need to work on. Later chapters will be styles much mmore naturally, but I always do setups something like this.

Please R&R, paying particular attention to awkwardness. Thank you.

No flames, especially no flames for the OC infestation.

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"Is this really the best vantage point?" complained the young recruit after sixteen hours of waiting. Her whines were met with annoyed glares and a hush from the captain.

"We need to wait until the time is right, then we'll strike. Get used to it, rookie," he said and crossed his arms.

The captain's words were short and blunt but got across the message, and took all the whine out of the recruit. She quietly turned her head downwards to hide the blush from both him and her snickering comrades.

Their leader was a well built man, medium sized with a stiff posture that commanded respect. His jaw was square, and he had a brown moustache that drooped past his lips, ending just at his jaw-line. The rest of his face was covered with a steel visor, which was part of the Hylian soldier's armour and uniform that all present wore. The little skin that was visible on his cheeks and chin was rough and red from the relentless sand, which had also settled in his otherwise immaculate moustache. His position was distinguished by the golden trim here on the edges of his plating.

The other soldiers were as restless as the recruit, but unlike her they had been on duty long enough to resist the temptation to complain. Their irritation and fatigue was evident in their lax posture, which didn't befit the knights at all. Their discipline was slipping. The sand, blowing lightly but constantly, had slowly worn down their bodies and spirits. One stretched, others leaned from foot to foot, or on their spears, but all still stood, though none had any inclination to stay standing at the time. The rigid form of their captain stood stark in their minds even when they weren't looking in his direction, and it kept them at least semi-alert. They held him in awe and respect, and feared him as well. His stone-cold reputation had preceded him, and he hadn't been chosen for this mission at random. He could get this done efficiently if the situation turned hostile, and not even bat an eye at it. They didn't envy their quarry's guard, if there was any.

The squadron stood there in silence on the plateau overlooking the desert in the unbearable heat of day waiting for the target, with no distraction other than the two scouts they had to deal with, and when they saw it their plan was to take action to capture it, not kill it. It was only a boy, a child, after all, and his death would be inhumane. They could afford mercy towards him, but this didn't mean they wouldn't take this mission seriously if others interfered. Most knights waited their entire lives before they got included in a mission so important, and as tired, and annoyed, and frustrated as they were, enthusiasm still glowed faintly in the pits of their chests, ready to flare up at a moment's notice.

They didn't have long to wait. As they restlessly stood, wondering how their leader could so diligently keep watch for such a long stretch at a time, faint laughter could be heard faintly above the whistle of the wind, and the captain raised a hand, signalling that their target had been acquired. Each soldier peered over the cliff edge to spy a small group of children running around playing, accompanied by two bored looking female guards to watch over them and keep them safe. They were both women with tanned brown skin, flaming red hair, and armed with glaives. They wore tight, silk, sleeveless purple shirts cut off at the midriff and matching baggy pants. One wore a veil across her face as well. Their beauty shook some of the male soldiers' resolve even further. The children were all girls, variously garbed, except one. He wore a black shirt and pants, as was customary for a Gerudo king. They all had the dark skin of the women and the same burning hair. It was the adult warriors that the soldiers were most wary of, and they would be the targets for their lance tips, but half a century ago it was proven that even a young boy could wield great power. This entered and lingered in the minds of a few guards, and as they all recalled who they were after, the new Gerudo king, and as the link between power and evil was made subconsciously in their minds the faint trepidation of this thought washed over the whole group, one by one, like dirty water rising up in a flood. The soldiers weren't as excited now as they thought they would be at the start of the mission as they all filed down the opposite side of the cliff to flank the valley at both openings, halberds in hands and swords at hip, or remaining in position on the plateau, taught longbows in hand, ready to let loose death showers if all else failed. Yes, this operation carried echoes of the Evil King, and even the most experienced were chilled to the soul with the thought of facing him.

Unfortunately, it seemed things were not fated to go as planned, which became evident when a scream broke through the children's laughter and conversation. One of them must have seen a idle archer, or a glimpse of his bow. While the infantry rushed with even more haste to get into position, a loud whistle shrieked from the direction of the middle of the valley, and female's battle cries were heard from a short distance away.

This happened too quickly for many of the clanking soldiers to register at first. Confusion paved the way for panic, and their hearts beat faster. They hadn't counted on being intercepted. The soldiers believed they were going against a new Ganon, and only this stopped the rising fear cold. Failure was not an option for them, if the restoration was to come to fruition. Blind loyalty, fear, and ignorance drove their legs to the valley entrance before the Gerudo reinforcements arrived.

When the captain's squadron reached the opening between the rocky walls, the fighting had already broken out at the other entrance. Metal clanged on metal, and both sides were fighting bravely, but the Hylians were quickly being beaten back. The Gerudo had the advantage of cavalry, and they knew how to fight on the rapidly reddening sand. The Hylians saw their comrades, the would-be-snipers, full of holes, dashed asunder on the rocks below by the expert Gerudo archers before any other fighting had begun. The new arrivals quickly got over their shock, drew their weapons, raised them uniformly, and with a loud battle-cry rushed in to turn the tide of battle. As they joined in, the troupe already in combat managed to erect enough spears to hamper the cavalry.

It was utter chaos: A steel clad warrior swung his sword upward, catching a Gerudo in the shoulder and knocking her to the ground. He quickly had to dodge a glaive strike only to be cut down by a lightning quick scimitar, while the latter two women were beaten back and killed in turn. There may have been more Gerudo, and the skill of the opposing forces was equal, but the Hylians had better armour, allowing each one to dispatch many before finally falling, bloody. Through this ordeal, a band of children was being led through to their would be rescuers by the original guards.

One of the girls tripped on a rock. On the ground, she looked at an advancing swordsman with customized armour to fit his gut, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Momma!" she cried, and covered her eyes. The guard without the veil turned, making a panicked noise, and jumped in front of her daughter. The man frowned when he met her opposition, but when he looked down at the little teary-eyed red-head his expression softened and his grip on his weapon slackened. He sighed and turned his attention back to his real enemies.

Once she saw that her child was safe, the veiled Gerudo turned around and helped her up and stroked her face, reassuring her. "Hush, Pir, you'll be okay. Mommy won't let anything happen to you," she soothingly said and smiled.

Pir stopped crying, but still snivelled a bit and hiccoughed, but soon smiled back. Her mother's smile was so beautiful, it seemed to make all the bloodshed just melt away. Pir's mother's loving gaze reached another fearful child in the group, but the boy stood back a bit from the girl. The veiled woman had gotten the rest of the children just about away in all of the confusion. When she noticed his patiently quiet, slightly grimacing form, she smiled at him, and got up, taking her daughter's hand and offered her other to him.

"Kanorath, you mustn't worry, my boy. I love you too, and I won't let anything happen to either of you."

At this a smile slowly rose out of the boy's grim countenance and just when it started to appear, the floodgate of emotion opened, and he grinned as only a young boy could. He was a handsome ten year old, slim, muscular, with short red hair and olive skin. His eyes were as yellow as a sunset over the ocean and they sparkled with love for this woman.

He put out his hand to take Pir's mother's, and just as their fingers touched, and she smiled even wider, but at that very moment the red blade of a dagger peaked through her lips, and blood spurted out like a bursting dam. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled without a tiny groan. Pir's shriek was as harsh as her mother's dying breath was soft, and it halted everyone's fighting for a stark second, before the girl crumpled in tears. Kanorath's hand was still out, trembling, and he slowly lowered it as he locked a death gaze on a heavily breathing man with a brown moustache and gold trim on his uniform, who was taking his sword back out after throwing the dirk. He calmly walked up to the boy and raised his visor, looking him straight in the eyes. The tension between them could have been cut with a knife. The captain had a white scar vertically across his right eye socket, where a milky glass replacement was inserted. They frowned at each other, and the older man cuffed Kanorath in the chin, then picked the dazed boy up with one arm, closing his visor with the other,.

"Retreat!" he called to his men, and they quickly tried to disengage. Some were cut down when they turned their heads, but most got back without much trouble, only to discover with shock that the Gerudo had used their own pincer tactic against them, and blocked off the other entrance. As the Hylians were quickly surrounded, they got in a circular formation, with their spears out and the captain in the center. He had Kanorath in one arm with his blade at the boy's throat. The stalemate was evident, and the only things exchanged were glares. The dust settled. Again the wind's whistle was the only audible noise, and all was still.

A Gerudo stepped forward. Her uniform was gold, with steel plating on it, unlike the other Gerudo. There still wasn't enough clothing to fully cover her dark, brown skin, though. Her hair was darker than average as well, and it was done up in her hair with elaborate braids.

"I am Nalice, and I lead the noble amazons you outlanders have attacked. Lord Kanorath is but a boy. You must return him to us immediately, or you brand your race as just a band of kidnappers. We Gerudo commit crimes, yes, we steal and kill, yes, but it is an abomination to harm a child," she shouted, pointing at the Captain. The captain fixed his gaze on her, no emotion evident in his expression.

"But you broke the agreement, wench. You are NOT allowed to have a king. We agreed on this law seventy-three years ago, when your tyrant master was killed. You didn't hide this boy well enough, and we found out. We'll always find out. Evil will never have the opportunity to rise again if the King of Hyrule has his will, and we knights are the hand that makes his will law. You will not throw this land back into chaos," the captain finished in his rumbling voice.

"This may be the case, but we will protect our king with our lives. To us he is a great blessing, not a curse, and we will lay down our lives to protect him, to protect the future of the entire Gerudo race. To this end I challenge you to mortal combat, soldier, and the loser's forces will withdraw without protest, keeping Lord Kanorath as they wish."

The captain stepped forwards, releasing the boy to a sergeant, and drew his blade.

"I agree to your terms, oh queen of whores. Let us make this quick."

The spectators formed a wide ring around their leaders, holding their breaths with fevered anticipation. Gerudo whispered to each other their shock that Nalice would commit to such a contest; that she completely agreed with Hylian's point of view, and that she wasn't alone in the belief that Kanorath would turn out to ruin the world as Ganondorf had for the Gerudo. The soldiers whispered as well, but they discussed how foolhardy it was for the captain to risk the mission on this gamble. They also feared being mowed down by angry women if they did win.

What would happen if their champion lost? This was the one thought in everyone's mind. Nalice stuck out her hand, which was quickly filled by a sword. The blade was a radiant silver, the cross-guard was the Gerudo symbol in red, the pommel was a red star, and the grip was black leather. The blade gently widened towards the weak, before one edge turned in to form a point. It was a beautiful blade, and the audience couldn't wait to see it in use.

The captain held his sword with both hands straight in front of him, while Nalice held hers horizontally with very bent legs, her other hand in the air. The captain waited patiently for his adversary to strike, and she did the same, but eventually it was her that attacked first. Nalice jumped in the air to bring down a heavy overhand chop, which the captain easily parried, but the moment her feet touched the sand, she was on the offensive again. She went for his calves with a sweeping slice, but her sword was again countered. With a flourish the captain spun and his longsword slammed in the spot Nalice just was, tearing her pant leg. He flipped his blade tip at her, and to prevent her neck from being sliced open Nalice had to block. She then tried to aim for the captain's wrist, but only hit his cross-guard, and gave him the opportunity to spin her blade our of her hands, in a sweeping arc to land in the sand at Kanorath's feet.

Nalice was on hands and knees, her face red with embarrasment of losing to a man in front of her people, her hands balled into fists. The captain casually walked over to her side and raised his sword, making it shine in the desert sun. He brought it down swiftly and truly, and Nalice's head came off, landing with a muffled thump. A moment later her body collapsed in the sand as well. Kanorath groaned with fury and tried to go for the sword, but he was instantly subdued.

"Well, you all heard the conditions of the duel. Away with you now, rats," scoffed the captain. The Gerudo paused, then slowly trudged off in silence, watched by the captain, who cleaned his blade indifferently. Their feelings off loss, defeat, and weakness were indescribable. They had lost their second monarch to the Hylians, and they were a nation broken. The captain picked up Nalice's blade with a calous smile. "This will be the trophy of our victory. I think we'll bring it to the keep with our young… Kanorath."

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I realize the sword thing was a little obvious, but... It had to be done. I wanted him to have a special Gerudo sword, and after much deliberation, this was the best way I could have it.

If it's unclear, I could do a prologue, but guarenteed it will be even more awkward, and things will become clear in the future. If a lot of people ask me to do it, I will, but progression comes first. I really don't want to though... Prologues are hard, eh?

~PlaguedByEarth


	2. Captivity

About a month later, Chapter 2 is complete! Dah-dah-dah-dum!.... No?

Ah, well, I had a lot of fun with this one. Not much action, but still fairly interesting. It moves the story along, and I wanted to work on characters' personalities, even if Kanorath's wasn't expanded too much. Next chapter, I promise.

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Late one night, a large, shadowy, convoy clattered across Hyrule field with great haste. There was only one cart, a covered wagon. The royal triforce symbol on its sides identified the group as members or servants of Hyrule's royal family. The weary horsemen surrounding it all wore matching armour, except for the one riding in front, the captain of the knights. They rode as swiftly as they could without leaving the wagon behind, through the section of the field in the Faron province, towards the section in the Eldin province, and beyond, their horse's great hoof beats and ragged breathing the only thing breaking the midnight peace.

"We've been riding for four days. Please, boy, you have to eat something," pleaded a young, armoured woman. A red haired boy had wedged himself in the corner as far as he could fit, hugging his knees, and he answered her with nothing other than a fierce scowl. His hair was lank, his breathing was uneven, but his eyes burned with life. He turned to the side a little and looked away.

"Eat. Come on, eat up! You could die you know!" she said matter-of-factly, scrambling to get back in his line of sight. The other two soldiers guarding the boy looked up, annoyed and sleepy. Their heads rolled as the cart rocked and bumped on the rough trail.

"I would have let you skip your guard duty if I'd known you would act like this, Corporal. Just shut your mouth and try to rest. Let the dust rat starve if he wants to.," one grumbled.

The woman ignored him and held out a good sized stick of jerky towards the child, on hands and knees on the pale planks in front of him. Her steel armour hugged her athletic form well, and her pose showed off her curves even more. This made the other soldiers stop grumbling, and even crack a smile. "What's your name, little boy?" she asked again.

He looked back at her. "Kanorath," he muttered.

"Ah, Kanorath. What a noble sounding name. Well met Kanorath. My name's Siwwen. Now, do you like jerky?" she said cheerfully , waving the meat in front of her. Siwwen had at first feared Kanorath, but after a short while, she came to realize that he was just a child, alone and scared, not the very incarnation of horror.

Kanorath said nothing and reached forward to grab the jerky, then as his fingers closed over it he drew back with his prize quickly, like a snail to its shell. He wolfed down the jerky, and looked hungrily back up at Siwwen. She sighed and took some more food out of her bag. Kanorath ate than too, and still looked hungry. Siwwen put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"You sure can eat, can't you?" she said, grinning. "But you must hear that a lot."

Kanorath hesitated and then nodded. Memories of Gerudo valley hit him, and the contrast of his current position struck him again. With this he regained his melancholy expression, tears appearing for a moment in his eyes, but disappearing quickly with a quick sniff. "I want to go back home," he said.

Siwwen mirrored his look, and sighed. "I'm sorry, but we can't do that, Kanorath. We have to take you away. Oh, goddesses, that sounded so wrong…" She looked down, embarrassed, and saw that her apathetic comrades had looked away, uncomfortable in the face of the boy's innocence, pitying him. This soon faded, though, as they remembered that this was not a place for feelings, and that as strong, noble, men they should not feel as such. Doubt raced through Siwwen's heart. Was this really the thing that had to be done? This wasn't a just act, for their so called pre-emptive measures had taken an innocent child from the hands of his friends, family, his mother - oh, Farore, his mother. What was she feeling? If Siwwen was the mother of a child kidnapped in battle by strangers, what would she do? Kanorath was a little boy. He had a mother, he had emotions, he had arms, and legs, and eyes, and lips, and everything else that made a human human.

Noticing Siwwen's expression with surprise brought Kanorath out of his own spiralling lamentation. He looked at her worrying visage and, for some reason, wanted to help her. She was a Hyrulian, but still Kanorath felt sorry for her. Perhaps it was because she was a woman like all of the Gerudo, or perhaps it was because she was nice to him. It may have been both, or it may have just been because Kanorath was the kind of person that wanted to help people feel happy. This in itself would have been extraordinary, given the mistrusting society he was raised in, and what these Hyrulians had done to him. Because of this, and because of his age and inexperience, he didn't know how to react to these feelings, or what to do to carry them out. He did what came natural to him. He reached forwards with one arm, causing the other guards to scowl, and poked Siwwen on the top of her bowed head.

She looked up at him, and he asked her, "Where are we going?"

One of the men cut in before the corporal could answer. "We can't tell you that, exactly," he said, getting to his feet. "But I suppose some details couldn't hurt. Eh, go ahead and answer Siwwen, but don't be flippant with your words. You've a responsibility to the crown, you know."

Siwwen nodded warily at him and turned back to Kanorath. "Well, let's see. What can I tell you? Oh, well, there's a tower. It's thick and strong, and you'll be kept inside with a few guards. Um, all of the guards will be from us Hylian knights, you know. This tower, it's… far away… from any city. It's on the very border of Hyrule, in fact. I can say that, right? If I don't say which border? Well, there's lot's of monsters in the area, but there was some sort of deal made between them and the king so that your tower won't be attacked."

"Is it out of the desert?" asked Kanorath.

"Oh, of course it is. In fact, we've gotten out of the desert fairly quickly after we… got you. Anyways, I think it's quite close to a forest. Have you never seen a forest, Kanorath?" Siwwen asked. They had both gotten into comfortable sitting positions in the meantime, and Kanorath was beginning to yawn. Siwwen wasn't doing much better.

"No, they never took me out of the desert, or even took me that far into it. I stayed in the depths of the fortress most of the time. They said it was to keep me secret and safe, but I guess it didn't work. I played in the catacombs with Pir a lot, but she was free to come and go as she pleased, so I didn't always have someone to play with. I always used to beg Eunjri to let me come out and explore the world, and she finally did, two years ago. It was the happiest moment of my life when she said I could go out just like everyone else, but now she's died because of it." Kanorath's voice had softened gradually throughout his story, until it was almost a choked whisper.

"Oh my, Kanorath, I'm so sorry. Who was Eunjri? Your mom?" Asked Siwwen with genuine concern, lifting a hand to her mouth.

"No, I don't have a mother. She died when I was born. Eunjri was Pir's mother. Pir and I were born on the same day, and Eunjri was my mother's friend, so she took care of me. She always said that my mother gave all of her life to me, but I know that she was just trying to soften the hurt. My mother gave me a name, and then died. I asked one of the wet-nurses and that's what she said happened. I wonder what she was like sometimes, but I remember that I have Eunjri and I don't worry about it anymore. But now I don't even have Eunjri now."

"I… see," said Siwwen, quietly. She was smart enough to realize what Kanorath meant with his mentions of Eunjri. She didn't think it would be wise opening up such a recent wound. Unfortunately, her companions weren't as sensitive.

"So we good her good, then, did we?" said one of the guards. After a deadly glare from Siwwen and the man beside him he continued, " Umm, what I meant by that was… So she was fighting in that battle and died?" Siwwen shook her head in disbelief, and the guard realized his stupidity, secretly deciding to shut up now. Surprisingly, Kanorath responded.

"No. She wasn't fighting. She was protecting me and the other kids when your leader threw a knife at her, right through her head. I think he severed her spinal cord as well." said Kanorath, defiantly. The others looked at him oddly. Such violent language from a child again raised doubt in their minds. However, before they could think about it too much they were interrupted by the blast of a trumpet, and some shouting from what sounded like the lead of the convoy. The wagon skidded to an abrupt halt, horses whinnying, frightened.

"What is it?" asked Siwwen

"How should I know?" snapped one of the other guards. "We're in here. Get out your weapon, rookie. Looks like we got us another battle on our hands!"

The soldier spoke with strength, but it was a little anticlimactic when the ring of warriors, all facing away from Kanorath, stood there as the distant shouts and clanging died away, without advancing any closer to the cart. Their stances slackened, partly in relief, partly in disappointment. The faint, almost unnoticeable metallic smell of blood added to the cool odour of the otherwise calm spring night, and the horses. The guards tensed up again when the canvas flap opened, but relaxed when they realized it was just two of their own.

"We're leaving again. You two are off guard duty. Go ride some more. It's our turn to rest."

The former guards sighed and sheathed their weapons. Before they made to leave they asked, "So what happened out there?"

"Nothing to worry about. Just a Bulblin raiding party, but there were only a dozen, maybe a dozen and a half. They weren't expecting us to have such a large, well-armed force, and we cut them down quick."

"We heard," the retreating soldier said shortly, and he and his companion left. A minute later a whistle was blown outside and the cart resumed rolling, and the horses' hooves again began beating. Siwwen looked back at the boy. He had fallen asleep during all of the commotion. It seemed that young Kanorath wasn't too affected by combat, and the food made him sleepy. She smiled, and put a blanket over the boy, with, as expected, disapproving glances from the new soldiers.

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It was on a night and in a situation much like this when the dark tower came into view. A month of swift riding had passed in the meantime. Siwwen took every opportunity to stay in the wagon with Kanorath and talk to him, but most of the time he was stuck with three uncaring soldiers that feared him for his position and race, shunning him like a leper. Siwwen took care to make sure she would be with Kanorath when they reached their destination so he wouldn't be too scared by what he saw.

The tower was on the top of a grassy hill, surrounded by ring of spears sticking out at the base to deter attackers, and had a few smaller buildings around to provide support. It was a rounded building with jagged masonry jutting from the top to give archers some cover, and was covered in arrow slits to do the same. It was a cold, draining, onyx black. It stuck out like the dark spot in the corner of the room, the only black mark in the clearing in the middle of the forest. Siwwen didn't know exactly where they were anymore; all she knew was they were long past any village, in the unmapped territory tight in the grip of monsters. The least were Chu Chus and Octoroks,, but it wouldn't have been hard to find packs of Bokoblins, Wizrobes, or even a Darknut in such a place. The trees in the area were large and healthy, but the unnatural quiet that surrounded them, embodying the hostility of the land they occupied.

They came to a halt, and the captain barked some inaudible orders in the distance. Soon after, Kanorath's slumber was broken when the captain entered the wagon and, before Siwwen could say anything, grabbed Kanorath by the hair and lifted him in the air by it, twisting it further out of cold spite, then turned around to leave the wagon. Kanorath screamed and struggled, and Siwwen, shocked, jumped up and tried to stop the captain, but, before she could make a move against him, she was immediately knocked to the floor by one of the other guards, a spear pressed to her neck. Stricken and horrified, she could do nothing but watch as the boy she cared about was carried away in agony. She couldn't think anymore. Her mind was just blank.

The Captain was a powerful man. He was able to hold the thrashing boy out at arms length without getting hit, and barely showed any effort for it. "Take a good look boy," he said. "It's the last of the sky you'll ever see. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, rat." He spat this last part, laughing. He gave up the effort of lifting Kanorath when he stopped struggling, and dropped him hard, opting to drag him by his hair instead of carrying him through the gate. It closed behind him, all blackened wood, with an ominous thud and a loud clank as the portcullis fell.

Kanorath was pulled over rough flagstones, deeper into the fortress through a few doorways, until, a floor down, a mighty, blank-faced metal door stood. Not pausing to examine it, the Captain used his free hand to unlock and unbolt the thing. It took him some time. He then rammed into it with his shoulder until it started moving. He had to use his full weight to open it, the metal door was so thick and heavy, and he breathed heavily with the great effort. It creaked loudly, revealing nothing but darkness. Kanorath was unceremoniously thrown inside with a grunt from the officer before he could get a good glimpse of the interior of his prison, but for the vision of a great black maw.

After he landed in a heap, dust clouds bouncing around him, he stood up and turned around to see the door closing slowly in front of him, hinged shrieking. The boy's face was visible in the blade of light, a mask of pain and hate, tears frozen, livid, with his amber eyes glowing with anger. This was not he way to treat a king, or any fellow human being for that matter. At that moment as his fists shook, he swore revenge on that Hyrulian soldier. He would see that man spat on his blade if it took a lifetime, and he would relish it. The door slammed shut with a bang, the light on Kanorath's face snuffed out. He was alone.

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Hope you like it. Next chapter will be mostly flash-back, spoiler alert (too late, too bad). I might break it into two. I don't know how long it will be, but it will be way more social than the first two chapters. I want my characters to be people!

X~Ramble~X That's something I liked about Ursula le Guin's _A Wizzard of Earthsea._ The protagonist's character wasn't really expanded all at once. It was stated what he was like, but it took the entire story to truly get inside his head. I'm not going for anything like that, because it isn't the same type of story, but I just thought it was interesting. I want Kanorath's personality out there fast, but not rushed. I've worked on it a little, but now's the time for it to truly be shown. Anyways, _A Wizzard of Earthsea,_ GREAT book. If you have a Chapter's card and nothing to spend it on, I highly reccomend it. It remains one of my greatest pieces of inspiration.


	3. Meditation

Ha ha ha! This took a lot longer than I expected, but it's better than the first two chapters in my oppinion. It's also more true to my stlye, I think. Getting rid of setup rocks! As always, please R&R. I don't mind criticism.

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It wasn't very fun. Or interesting. Or fulfilling. Captivity sucked. It was cold, dark, and a little wet. It reminded him a little of being in the bottom of a glass with the dregs still there; It was just enough liquid to notice, but not enough to do anything with. After the few hours of the initial shock, and finding his dank canvas mat, Kanorath had tried to make the best of his time in this unlit cell. Rather than focus inwards, he tried to think of things he could do to pass the time. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to talk to. An activity must be the thing to work on. Unfortunately, there was nothing in there to do anything with. All he had was himself, so he did push-ups until he choked on air, and after that did sit-ups until he passed out. Persistence was a virtue. When he came to, seconds or hours later, he laid down on his cot in a more comfortable position and rested. A king had to stay as fit as his soldiers.

Soon after, when his breathing resumed its normal rate, and the fog in his head cleared, Kanorath set to exploring and re-exploring the small room. He circled it until his hands stung from the scrapes he got from dragging them over the uneven stone walls. He imagined they must be red and bleeding now. This place; he was alone , and so isolated. Bleeding hands, bleeding walls. It was cold. The space seemed to stretch out into infinity, threatening to absorb him, consume him, assimilate him, even though after his hours of feeling around he didn't think he needed his eyes in here. He knew, at least vaguely, where everything was, except for the ceiling he couldn't reach. Still, without his eyes this room never ended, and the fear still lived. Without warning, a hole could open up right in front of him, and he'd never know it, until it was too late, and he fell down, down, into nothing but more black.

He shuddered, not from cold, and smiled a warped little grin. He was all alone. He licked his raw fingers, tasting them. Yes, there definitely was blood. This didn't disturb him, though. He could also taste the flavour of desert and sand on them, and that taste he truly relished now. It was gritty and salty, with a dry, dusty aftertaste, and horses and aged wood and metal and stone in it. It tasted exotic, almost spicy, and he savoured it until his saliva gradually washed it away. Letting his hand drop, and the blood drip to the ground, he suddenly laughed. All alone. Away from his home, away from that feeling, away from his people. He had to admit to himself that he was looking forward to the harem he was promised, even if he didn't know what that was. What was he king of now? But that weak though couldn't survive long in Kanorath's mind.

Here he was now, bored. A king shouldn't get bored. That was something like what Eunjri would have said. The thought of Eunjri made him feel a little less alone. With this moment of reflection whizzed in another pang of loneliness, but it was still a good memory. Kanorath sighed and laid down again. It was cold, and when he shivered this time it was because of this chill. Desert people didn't like chills, not at all. What had it been like there? The second he asked himself, the memory slid into place. Memories of home weren't that hard to come by. Neither were all of those adventures they had, him and Pir. What a contrast! Here was a wretched, cold, dark, wet, stinking hole, not the temperate, orange, dry, beautiful wasteland he knew and loved. He could almost hear the sound of the billows of sand blasting out in the wake of their boots.

- -- --- --------------------]-- o- -o --[------------------- --- -- -

Pir¢s laughter tinkled in front of Kanorath as he chased after her. They were ten, then. They were playing without care or knowledge of their fate three years later, the battling, the pain. But that's not important here… What is important is that Pir just stole half of Kanorath's eyeball frog, and he was livid.

"Pir, you Dogondo's mother, get back here right now!" shouted Kanorath. He furiously chased after the girl outside, running up dunes, sliding down dunes, and slipping on the loose sand in his mad rush. The gritty pillows took their load without complaint as his feet pounded furiously on them.

"Why should I?" asked Pir coyly, swinging her arms playfully but keeping her pace. Her mischievous little grin was plastered on her face, as she danced across the desert, swinging her arms daintily. She led him away from the desert towards the fortress, but followed a twisting trail, all turns and backtracking, to exasperate the boy further.

"Because I'm the king!" cried Kanorath. His face was red with fury and with the effort of keeping up his sprint. Pir was the fastest runner in their age group, and it showed here. On they went as both Pir's and Kanorath's bare feet hit the burning sand without any sensation at all; an entire life lived in the sun will build up some resistance. "If the king says so, that means you gotta do it!"

"Some king. You can't even catch me in a footrace," Pir giggled, after turning around and jogging backwards. That got a rise out of him. With one last battle cry, Kanorath lowered his head and charged towards Pir, pumping his limbs furiously. She just laughed again and turned around again, running all out now, straight towards the fortress. They soon reached it, and the small crowds of women that came with it. As they approached the other Gerudo and flew by them, sometimes into them in Kanorath's case, the older women just stopped for a moment to laugh or shake their heads disapprovingly. Most of them only saw a flash of colour, or Pir's triangular smile and Kanorath's flushed grimace. In any case, as the children passed into the building the children were soon out of their minds and they resumed their business.

The narrow hallways of the Gerudo's fortress were not the best place for an uncontrolled footrace. They were made of regular, small, sandstone bricks, in a completely square construction. There were some patterns on the walls, but in most places it was just the brown stone. Great wooden beams also supported the ceiling in regular divisions. The fortress's rooms were stacked on top of one of each other in a sturdy fashion impervious to attack. The rooms in the it were lit with narrow, high windows without glass set in them, and by long rows of big torches. Every sunset it was a new Gerudo's turn to explore the fortress, replacing the torches that had burned out. The rooms with exterior walls and windows' torches were also lit at this time by the same women, and extinguished again at sunrise to save fuel.

The quiet inside was broken by the quick rhythm of footsteps. Pir wasn't making this easy for her companion. They went up stairs, down stairs, around a corner, around another, outside, back inside through another door, and so on, and on, and on. They had kept up this manic pace for what had to be five or ten minutes, and it was beginning to show. Kanorath's breath was now a gasp, and Pir had stopped giggling, needing to preserve her precious oxygen. Pir refused to lose this race, and Kanorath wouldn't give up either. At the same time, each resolved to put out one last burst of energy, and sped up. Turning her head to see how far ahead she was, to Pir's wide-eyed astonishment, Kanorath had accelerated up to her faster than she had anticipated and was almost close enough to reach her. His hand extended out for her shoulder, and his feet sped on. He smiled triumphantly at her. To counter his prideful look with one final act of desperation, Pir turned sharply to the left down a new corridor. Kanorath had anticipated this, though, and with a confidant laugh turned as well, but a little wider than the girl did. He pushed off the side wall with one arm, and with the increased momentum caught up to her again. Unfortunately, he didn't anticipate the wall right in front of him. This hallway was a dead end, and, knowing this, Pir planted her feet and ducked. Hand still outstretched, Kanorath's legs slammed into her, causing Pir a bit of pain, but having the expected result of flipping him over her wildly, straight into the wall. Kanorath had winded up up-side-down, back towards the wall, the inverted image of Pir his last vision before the fleshy thud. He was suddenly very aware of all the bones in his body before he blacked out.

- -- --- --------------------]-- o- -o --[------------------- --- -- -

The next thing Kanorath remembered was Pir laying over him looking one part concerned, one part hysteric from laughter. Oh, she's really be laughing soon, Kanorath bitterly resolved, and a smile appeared, mirroring Pir's. He socked her in the face, causing her to spin off-balance comically, and land on her rear, an indignant frown and red mark new on her face.

"You spastic gekko! What was that for?" Pir complained, getting up and dusting herself off. She pouted at him.

"Well, that really hurt," justified Kanorath, who had completely forgotten about the eyeball frog. "It was total overkill! And you shouldn't laugh at your king."

"Oh, it's king this, king that, all the time, and you're not even king yet. You have to wait until you're thirteen, remember, Prince Kanorath?" mocked Pir, shaking her finger at the boy, a smirk on her bruising face. "Besides, a king shouldn't be a big, fat, whiner."

"Shut up, tektite-legs!"

"Torch slug!"

"Deku Baba!"

"Who are you calling Deku Baba? You're the one that never stops eating!"

"Big Deku Baba!"

Pir blew a raspberry at Kanorath. Their faces red, and frowning, they both turned with a humph, crossed their arms and raised their chins. This period in which they both pretended the other wasn't there soon bored Kanorath though, but he refused to give up first and acknowledge Pir. He did, however, allow his head to slowly drop and gazed at his surroundings. They were quite deep in the fortress, and in an apparently unravelled hallway. There were some crates stacked along the walls to use it as a storage space, but aside from that it was just a short, dead-end hallway. This puzzled Kanorath. Why not just make a cellar, instead of a cramped hallway? Then something caught his eye. One of the bricks in corner of the wall had a little spot on it. Curious, he Abandoned his stance and knelt down to examine it. Pir turned around sharply to see what he was doing with a scowl on her face, only to see Kanorath bent over, with his hand outstretched.

He realized that it wasn't a spot on the brick, but the symbol for the Gerudo, expertly carved. He could understand a bored child or guard scratching a picture in this unused hall without anyone noticing it, but this couldn't have been carved by anyone but an artisan. The sides were beautifully rounded, it was perfectly symmetrical, and even looked to be stained inside. Intrigued, Kanorath reached out to touch it. He saw that the symbol was loose, and slid inwards easily when he pressed it down. Pir looked curiously over Kanorath's shoulder, and drew back startled with a squeak when from deep within the masonry there came a hollow thunk, as something lid into place. Slowly, with a heavy grinding noise, the wall swung away from the children in the hallway to create a dark opening. They peered tentatively into it to see stairs leading downwards. With a whoosh of air that carried a hint of creaming, a wall of dust pushed outwards and dispersed in the open air of the hallway, causing the Gerudo to flinch. It carried the acrid smell of old leather and bones.

"Wow," gasped Pir. "What is it?"

"It's a staircase, idiot,"

"I'm not an idiot, I meant where does it go? But why am I asking you? You wouldn't know," Pir dismissively snapped.

"Well, I know how to find out," retorted Kanorath, coldly. He took a few steps forwards, and found a torch leaning against one of the top steps. He stooped to grab it, then purposefully ran over to light it on one of the sconces set in the wall. It burst into flames instantly with a small sigh. He walked back over to the staircase, and held it high, illuminating the walkway further. The stairs went down about sixty meters before they gently turned to the left.

Pir frowned. "You aren't really going down there, are you?" she asked, disbelief and impression noticeable in her voice.

"A king isn't afraid of anything, Pir," said Kanorath haughtily, looking at her over his nose.

"You'll get in trouble!" she exclaimed, gesturing towards the way they came.

"Only if you tattle. Yeah, go on and tattle. I'm going, just you watch!" Kanorath finished and started marching down the stairs. Tap, tap, went his little feet on the stone. To his discomfort, walking this distance took a lengthy bit of time. After about thirty steps he also started getting a bit uneasy. The air was musty, and from the look of the footprints he left in the dust behind him it was clear that no one had been here for ages. What could be lurking down in the depths? He hadn't had the presence of mind to bring a weapon, and anything could be waiting for a juicy Gerudo to wander into it's layer so it could feed. There could be Skulltula, or there could be Wizzrobes, or, Goddesses willing, there could even be an Iron Knuckle in there! Why had he had to talk all tough in front of Pir? Now he couldn't even go back and get a sword without looking like a coward. Kanorath hugged himself with his free arm and looked around anxiously.

After what seemed an eternity, Kanorath found himself at the bottom of the staircase. There was a small room in front of him with a great door at the end, with a gloomy red carpet leading to it and two short pillars at both sides of it. The door was a faded blue, with some swirling gold patterns on it. It was all dull now, but it must have looked magnificent in the past. On top of each pillar was an oblong metal statue almost shaped like a bottle, but with spheres on top of them. Each sphere looked like a closed eye. There was what appeared to be a mouth full of razor sharp teeth at their bases, and they stood on four stubs of legs. However, both of these figures were coated in rust, their intricate features obscured by the flaking orange. There was even a big hole in one where the metal had collapsed. There were scorch marks around this hole. It looked as if it had exploded after crumbling.

"Whoa," said Kanorath with wonder sparkling in his eyes. He went forward and touched one of them, metal falling away on his fingers. "I didn't know there were Beamos in here." He also knew how lucky he was that these statues were broken. If they were still active, the second that he walked into the room they would have devastated him with their blue beams. Kanorath took a step backwards to get a better look, when he suddenly felt something touch his shoulder. He screamed, and dived to the side, looking up with terror in his amber eyes at the un-intimidating form of Pir. She stood with her hands behind her back and looked at him quizzically, her head cocked to one side. Kanorath couldn't help but notice the way her red locks bounced as her head moved. Kanorath scowled at her.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," commanded Kanorath, quickly regaining his composure to save some dignity. He got up off of the dust and strode towards the gilded door again.

"I wanted you to know that the door closed at the top. I slipped in before it completely shut," Pir said. She got a thanks in return, but she giggled behind Kanorath until he threatened to light her head on fire.

The door was massive, but raised itself with only a light push. A lot of ancient doors went up, rather than swinging to the side for the effect. The children looked up in awe at the gateway as they passed through, and flinched as in slammed shut. The new room they had entered was an inky black, but thick, churning clouds of dust were visible in the glowing sphere given off by Kanorath's torch. Some pieces of dust ignited when they came into contact with it, creating an eerie haze of faint sparks, like fireflies in the night. Cautiously, they stepped forwards. When their feet hit the floor, braziers to their sides lit up. After a moment, similar braziers around the room lit away from the first two, making the interior of the room visible. It was revealed to be round, with an ornate crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It was at least three meters in diameter. There was also a circular red carpet in the center of the room, ending about a meter before the wall in a fringe. Tall, staunch bookcases also lined the walls, with a horizontally sliding ladder for easy access to the desired unreachable tome. There were also worn, thick, simple wooden tables covered in evil looking concoctions, connected to each other with complicated cords and all emitting a corrosive stench. One of these tables was bare of all bottles, containers and books, but was stained bloody. Many skeletons of various monsters and people were lying on the floor and carelessly shoved under the tables. There was also a rack of weapons, a tank with jellyfish drifting and pulsing inside of it, and a reading desk with a dozen or so books open on it, and a chair with disconcerting claws at the bottom of the legs.

"Ooh," gasped Kanorath, stepping forwards and glancing quickly from side to side. He looked even more impressed than he did with the Beamos. "Wow. You know where we must be, Pir?"

"Where?" asked Pir. She sounded as amazed as Kanorath, but also a little wary and frightened. She shivered, even though it was as warm as it was outside.

"This has to be the most awesome place in the fortress," breathed Kanorath. "We've found King Ganondorf Dragmire's secret study."

-

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Just in case the line made you wonder, no, Gerudo are not filled with juice any more than anyone else is. Hope that clears things up if I confused you.

Next chapter will continue in flahback, but with even more dialogue and action. Should be fun.


End file.
